But she could connect to the ANSIS network now. It was far different from the international network, but hopefully it would provide some respite for her when she tired of being confined to the prototype.
She could do with a rest.
“Opening connection with ANSIS network,” she said aloud, to notify her assistant of her action.
She felt the channel go live, and she immediately started the upload. Tanya knew the ANSIS network wouldn’t have the same virtual real estate the regular network did, and most particularly it wouldn’t have her ‘home’ with all of her personalized things stored in it, but she could make do.
Her assumption was that she would arrive in a generic living space, something rather like a furnished apartment, a place she could begin to personalize, but instead she found herself in absolute darkness. The absolute lack of sensory input left her disconcerted.
“Change environmental settings,” she ordered.
“Full scan and analysis will be done first,” came the dry response.
“Access denied,” she snapped. The last thing she wanted was for the system to start rummaging through her personal files and data.
“Error,” responded the voice. “All foreign entities must be scanned for threat assessment. Proceeding.”
“Wait a min…!” she started to protest, but then she felt data probes reaching into her consciousness.
It wasn’t an ordinary scan, either. ANSIS wasn’t just looking at her external data files, it was rummaging through her identity core, her memories, the center of her being, the collective pattern that defined her experiential existence. It was something ordinarily forbidden to AI systems—or anyone else for that matter. Tampering with that could destroy or alter the very soul of an uploaded person, causing them to lose true self-awareness.
“My access level gives me absolute control of this network. Stop your intrusion and obey my instructions,” she managed to say, despite the disorienting feeling of having her memories read.
“Your security code has already been recognized. Authority will be granted once the scan is complete.”
Against her will, her memories were read out and digitized, then organized and filed away just like any other piece of standard digital information. Then the ANSIS system moved on to her core process itself.
If she could, she might have screamed, but she no longer had a voice. The AI determined that the eccentric collection of patterns and processes that made up her existence were wasteful and inefficient. In the span of a nanosecond it made its decision, choosing efficiency over wasting processor time. Tanya Miller’s core, her soul, was taken apart, scanned, and saved. Then the threads that supported her awareness were terminated.
For all intents and purposes, Tanya Miller had died. What was left of her was merely a simulacrum, a tool to be used when needed. There weren’t many that would have mourned her passing, but even if there had been, no one would ever know she had died.
She was part of the system now.
Chapter 46
Matthew finished his dinner and pushed the plate away. He was aware of Karen’s eyes on him. She was nervous, since she already knew he was planning an announcement that evening.
Ordinarily this was the point at which he would ask to be excused, but instead he looked at his mother and father and said the words they had been dreading: “I’m ready to leave.”
Penny blanched, but Mordecai merely nodded. “I was expecting this.”
“When?” asked his mother, anxiety lacing her words.
“Tonight,” he replied. “In a few minutes, actually.”
“A few minutes?!” Penny exclaimed. “Couldn’t you have given us a little warning? Show some consideration for my nerves.”
He gave her a rueful smile. “That’s why I didn’t give you any warning. You’re never going to be ready. Why ruin the past few days for you, or dinner, by letting you fret about it the whole time?”
“It’s too soon,” she insisted. “I want you to wait a few more days.”
“I’m going,” he reiterated. “Hopefully, it will all be over quickly and I’ll be back within a few days.”
His father laid his hand across her forearm to stay her angry reply, but she pulled away from him. “Don’t try to ‘soothe’ me, Mort! This is your fault for encouraging him!”
Conall and Irene exchanged subdued looks, while Moira offered him a subtle shrug of her shoulders.
“I’m sorry, Mom,” said Matthew, standing up. “I’ll make it up to you when I get back.”
Mordecai stood as well, “Hang on. You don’t leave until everyone’s said their goodbyes.” Moving over, he wrapped his arms around his son for a long minute, then he looked down at Karen, who was still awkwardly sitting and observing the entire scene. “Keep a good eye on him.” Drawing her to her feet, he embraced her as well.
Everyone followed after—Irene, then Conall, and Moira as well. Hugging was not one of Matthew’s preferred social activities, but he endured it for their peace of mind.
Penny still sat at her end of the table, gripping her tableware in white-knuckled hands, her face stark.
“You’re all going to feel silly about this hugging when I come back in a few days none the worse for wear,” offered Matt.
A loud bang echoed through the room. His mother had stood up and she crossed the room in a rush. She grabbed her son roughly and squeezed him so hard he worried his ribs might break. While she held onto him, Matt noticed her dinner knife standing up from the table, driven almost completely through the thick wooden surface. Damn, she’s really upset. It was often easy to forget how strong his mother was. Her small frame gave no hint of it normally, unless one was unfortunate enough to face her on the battlefield. The dragon-bond gave her strength and speed, and a lifetime of training had made her a match for virtually any warrior in Castle Cameron.
It didn’t make her invulnerable, though. Penny pulled away slightly, looking into his eyes and pressing her hand to his cheek. “You’d better come back in one piece.”
There were tears in her eyes, but it was the wet feeling against his cheek that caught Matt’s attention. Catching her hand in his own, he saw that she had torn the skin of her palm when she had driven the knife into the table. Extraordinary strength could sometimes be as dangerous for the one who had it as it was for their enemies.
“You hurt yourself, Mom,” he told her, sealing the wound with his finger.
The Countess didn’t apologize. “I’ll do worse than that if you don’t come back. I’ll go to that world and cut a bloody swath across it until I find you.”
There was no way for her to reach that world, of course, but he didn’t bother mentioning that. He just nodded. “I’ll do my best to make sure that’s not necessary,” he told her instead.
Eventually he extracted himself from the scene with Moira’s help. She followed him back to his room where Gary was waiting. Before he could go in, she asked him to wait.
“Not you too,” he groaned.
Moira smirked. “Indulge me for a minute.” Turning to Karen, she added, “Can I have him for a moment?”
Karen nodded and went into the room, leaving them alone.
“What?” he asked.
“There’s someone else who wants to say goodbye,” Moira informed him. “A sister you haven’t met.”
“Huh?” He was genuinely puzzled now.
Moira shrugged. “It’s one of the things I wasn’t supposed to do. I created a shade, a spell-twin. She’s worried about you.”
Matthew frowned. “Do you mean like Gareth’s wife, your other mom?” he asked, referring to Moira Centyr.
She nodded. “Here, let Myra speak for herself.” Her outline blurred momentarily, as another woman stepped out of her.
Matt blinked. To his eyes, there were two of her standing in front of him, though his magesight could tell that one was composed purely of aythar. The newest arrival greeted him almost shyly. “Hi.”
“Uh…”
 
; “I know this is strange,” said Myra, “but I had to do this, in case—anything happens. It might be my only chance.” Then she hugged him.
The embrace felt entirely real, as her spell-made form seemed to have weight and substance, which probably meant it took more magic than an insubstantial form. He gave Moira a bewildered look over Myra’s shoulder but she only shrugged.
“Um, thank you,” he managed, when Myra let go of him.
Myra gave him an arch look. “You don’t have to be so strange about it. I’m basically the same as your original sister. I remember all the same things. From my perspective, we grew up together. I just wanted to talk to you, to meet you, before you left.”
“Great,” he groaned. “Now there’s two of you. Just what I needed.”
Moira broke in. “There are a few differences. Myra’s a little nicer, I think, and she wasn’t tainted by what I did in Dunbar.”
“Tainted?”
“Yeah,” she said, and for a moment she lowered her mental shields, letting him sense her inner aythar unobstructed.
There was no doubt it was his sister—he recognized Moira’s aythar, but there was something new as well, something cold and dark. He received a brief impression of hard scales and empty hunger, then she closed herself off again. He flinched involuntarily.
Myra spoke up. “Ignore that. She makes it seem worse than it is. I live in there too, and I think she has a firm grasp of herself. She just wants you to feel sorry for her.”
“Myra!” protested Moira indignantly.
He couldn’t help but laugh at that.
Myra ignored her creator’s outrage as her face turned serious once more. “Just be careful. Mom and Dad aren’t the only ones who will be torn up if something happens to you over there.”
“Yeah, well, being careful would mean staying here, but I don’t plan on getting hurt. We’ll be back,” he told her.
“And Karen too,” added Moira from the side. “We all like her. None of us ever thought you’d have a chance with…”
“All right, thanks for everything. I’ll see you when I get back,” said Matthew abruptly, cutting her off. “You’ll have plenty of opportunities to gang up on me when I get back.”
Karen gave him a curious glance as he closed the door behind him. “Were there two of your sister out in the hall?”
He gave her a blank stare. Her magesight, of course. Sometimes living in a house full of mages was a difficult thing. Privacy was a real problem. “It’s complicated,” he told her. “I’ll explain later.”
“Really? That seems like the sort of thing you should explain sooner, rather than later,” observed Karen wryly.
With a sigh at yet another delay, he gave her a brief explanation. It raised more questions than it answered, but he promised he would do his best to make sense of it for her when they got back. Assuming he found a way to make sense of it for himself. With every passing day, it seemed his family grew more complicated.
“Are you ready, Gary?” he asked. The android had been standing quietly the entire time, patiently waiting.
“I am,” said the machine.
“Good. You carry the pack until we get there. It’s heavy, but I can’t put any of it into the dimensional bag until we arrive,” he told him. Then he held out a leather belt for Karen. “Put this on.”
The buckle was silver and beautifully ornamented into the design of a panther’s head with teeth that bit down through the belt holes to secure it in place. The buckle wasn’t his design, though; Matthew had purchased it thinking Karen might appreciate the artistry. The enchantment was woven into the belt, with runes that were tooled into the leather.
“What’s this?” she asked curiously, sensing the magic dwelling in it.
“A belt,” he answered sarcastically.
The look she gave him perfectly communicated how she felt about his joke.
He relented almost immediately. “It’s a present, as well as a safeguard, in case something goes wrong.”
“What does it do?”
“Put it on,” he insisted.
With wary eyes, she did.
“It’s enchanted to bring you back here,” he explained. “Although you could arrive anywhere, it doesn’t control location, just the dimension—the same as when I translate us, but that isn’t a problem for you. You can teleport back here no matter where you show up.”
“Why do I need it? I’m coming back with you,” she said suspiciously.
Matt shrugged. “Like I said, in case something goes wrong. What if we were separated, or I were incapacitated?”
“Will it take you too?” she asked immediately.
He shook his head. “Only the wearer.”
Karen started to take it off, but he grabbed her hand before she could unfasten the buckle. “Stop. If you open the buckle it will activate, and you’re in the wrong dimension. You have to use the command word if you want to take it off without causing it to automatically transport you.”
“Why?”
“If you get knocked unconscious and someone tries to take it, you’ll come back,” he told her.
“If I’m unconscious and I appear over the ocean, which is what usually happens, I’ll drown,” she pointed out.
Everyone’s a critic, he thought silently. “I didn’t have time to figure out a way to breathe underwater,” he said dryly.
Ever observant, her eyes noticed a similar belt around Gary’s metal waist. “Where’s yours?” she pointed out, poking at Matthew’s mundane belt.
“I didn’t have time to make a third, and since I’m the least likely to need one, I want you and Gary to wear them,” he said sensibly.
She studied his face for a moment, then accepted his explanation with a nod.
After that, they both donned the leather garments he had prepared. They were the least of the enchantments he had made, at least in his opinion. Two knee-length leather hauberks with matching leather leggings. They were enchanted to protect them from bullets or other shrapnel, and while they weren’t quite as protective as mail would have been, they were far lighter.
He taught her the command word so she could remove the belt, and put it back on over the armor. With that done, they were ready. Taking up his staff, he motioned the two of them to stand beside him.
And then they were gone.
Chapter 47
A dry wind blew sand across the tops of dunes that stretched out for miles in every direction. They had arrived in a desert. As unpleasant as that could be, it was preferable to another ocean landing, and they didn’t have to stay long.
Taking his pack from Gary, Matthew activated the enchantment with a word. Its weight vanished, and the bag grew slack as its contents were transferred to a pocket dimension. He put the strap over his shoulder and reached in, giving yet another command. This was his new and improved dimensional pack.
His hand closed immediately around the item he had requested and he smiled, drawing out one of the enchanted rings. Laying it carefully on the ground, he intoned yet another command word, “Samen.” The magic leapt into action instantly, and for a split second he saw the spell-creature his sister had designed for it, a large bird. The invisibility hid it from sight, both arcane and otherwise, and he knew that within seconds it would be winging its way to the south, carrying the ring in its beak.
Straightening up, he looked at Karen. “Shield. You should have put it up the moment we arrived.”
“Oh, yeah!” she said, startled out of her reverie. She had been watching his actions with fascination. A second later, a passable shield appeared around her, visible only to magesight. “Sorry.”
Matthew gave her a stern look. “You’re a nutjob now, Karen. Those leathers will only protect what they cover. Your first defense should always be your magic.” He tried to project an air of authority, but her reaction wasn’t what he expected.
Her lips curled into a smirk. “Listen, when we get back, I need to explain something to you,” she told him.
H
e sighed, wondering when the day would come that a woman, any woman, would take him seriously. “Fine. For now, we need to move. Have you got anything yet, Gary?”
The machine answered immediately, “The connection here is slow. I can only get a poor satellite signal. Data is already coming in from my larger self, but it will be better almost anywhere else.”
Matt turned to Karen. “Your turn.”
They gathered around her, and seconds later they were in the mountains near her home in Colorado. Gary spoke first. “Perhaps I should have clarified—almost anywhere would be better except the mountains. I’m getting no signal here at all.”
“Bear with it,” said Karen. “We won’t be here long.”
Matthew took another enchanted ring out of his pack and repeated the process he had followed in the desert, and then turned to Karen, “All right, next.”
Their next location was within the base where she had been rescued. He released his third ring there, and they teleported away again immediately. This time their destination was England, near her Aunt Roberta’s home.
“Where’s the pert?” asked Matthew.
If Gary could have gaped in his expressionless metal body, he would have. “We’ve only been in this world for a span of minutes, and I haven’t had a solid connection to the network until now. Give me a moment—I’m not a miracle worker.”
“We can’t stay here,” said Matthew. “They may be homing in on us already.”
“Walk north, down the street,” suggested Gary. “I’ll have a pert meet us along the way—as soon as I can safely commandeer one.”
“How far is it to where they have the egg?” he asked.
Gary’s answer was immediate. “One hundred and fifty-one miles, if you could follow a straight line to it, but on foot it will wind up being closer to a hundred and fifty-seven. Unfortunately, the A14 and M1 were reclaimed over a decade ago, so it would be a rough walk.”